


People Like Me and You

by sevenlostkeys



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Episode: s09e12 Hell Bent, F/M, Ficlet, Stolen Moments, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23740663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenlostkeys/pseuds/sevenlostkeys
Summary: What Clara told the Doctor in the Cloisters.
Relationships: The Doctor & Clara Oswin Oswald, The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Clara Oswin Oswald, Twelfth Doctor/Clara Oswin Oswald
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	People Like Me and You

_“We do not have time.”_

__

__

_“No, my time, my time is up. Doctor, between one heartbeat and the last, is all the time I have. People like me and you, we should say things to one another. And I'm going to say them now.”_

Twelve blinked at her then, still fidgeting with the ancient carvings beneath them. He’d worked everything out, but time was moving too quickly and too slowly all at once--that was the problem with being a timelord, it was all the same, in a way.

But Clara Oswald was back in the world again, breathing mere inches from his face. She wasn’t alive still, but that didn’t matter, he’d work it out, he’d fix it--

“Fine,” he said, gazing over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow as he watched those that lurked in the shadows. Her yelling had kept them back. That was the thing about Clara. She looked sweet and small, but she was fiercely loyal and brave. The bravest. Even now. 

“Do you remember what you said that day to Missy about love?” 

“Yes,” he said looking downward for a moment. It was cold and damp and he wished they were anywhere but here. 

“Love is a promise,” Clara said. “And I promise you, no matter what happens between this heartbeat and the next that every moment was worth this one...to know the truth, the one we always hid openly amongst ourselves. I don’t mourn my death. I mourn failing you and never getting to say this.”

Why did they have to be so brave? Always? He could pick them out of a crowd, like plucking flowers from a once-barren battlefield. Why did she have to be so much like him? 

“You never failed me, Clara,” he said, his gaze flitting back and forth between her and the Gallifreyan guards, the Sisterhood of Karn, all the other ghosts. Too many to count. “And now you’ve said it.” 

She kissed him then, full on the lips, his hands shakily landing on her shoulders while hers tangled in his silver hair. He leaned into her, finally after all this time when she broke away as quickly as it began, and whispered in his ear, “Now run you clever boy, they’ll all be watching me.”


End file.
